The Exploits of Nathorien Raldonis
by Mr Hairball
Summary: The life of a young Kaldorei, from childhood to adulthood, learning his skill, falling in love, and being cast into the nether regions of the mind.
1. The Exploits of Young Nathorien

((Greetings and salutations readers. I would just like to make a few notes on this story if I may. Firstly, this chapter here was originally just supposed to be a short story, purely intended for a bit of humor. However from some feedback, I was inclined to write more. Secondly, to all you Lore buffs, this isn't going to be the most accurate story. I tried to hit what bases I could, based only off of the history of Azeroth on the World of Warcraft website. But apart from that, there will most likely be some historical inaccuracies. Sorry for that. I believe that is all, um... thanks for reading and whatnot, enjoy.)) 

Long before the second coming of the Burning Legion, long before the Draenei crash landed on Azeroth, and even long before the war between the Alliance and the Horde, Nathorien Raldonis was just a lad. Young Nathorien was living in Darkshore at the time, living off the streets because his parents were killed some years back while in battle. He was just barely scraping by to survive, nothing out of the ordinary: pickpocketing an apple here, swiping some copper from an old lady off to market there. He got by.

One day, young Nathorien was off on his very first hunting trip. He had just purchased a brand new hunting rifle with the money he had been saving from the old ladies. It's not like he didn't want to steal it, it's just unlike the ammo he swiped; he can't fit a rifle in his pants. He brought along with him his trusty knife, also stolen, which he planned on using for skinning. He was thinking that robbing old ladies wasn't all that profitable, so young Nathorien decided that he would get into the leather business to make that extra copper, maybe even silver, for extra expenditures.

Nathorien was using his experience at moving silently to steal things to get through the forest of Darkshore unnoticed by his possible prey. He was being very careful not the step on any leaves or fallen twigs. That's when he saw it. He spied a pair of rabbit ears poking out from the top of a bush. "Score!" he thought to himself, "My first kill, my first bit of leather and it's a rabbit, an easy bag." He began his advance on the bush when he abruptly stopped. "Wait a second," he thought, "I'm not going to waste a round on a measly rabbit; I'll have to steal more sooner than I want to." So he slung his rifle to his back and pulled out his knife. He continued his advance.

Unknown to young Nathorien, a trap awaited him on the other side of that bush. For there sat a bear, wearing the skin off a rabbit's head atop its own. This bear, oddly enough, also wore a red and white checkerboarded napkin around his neck and had a fork and knife in hand.

Young Nathorien continued his advance upon the bush, confident he will succeed in his very first kill. Oh but to his dismay, he must have been overconfident. He wasn't paying attention to where he was going as he suddenly heard a snapping noise from under foot. He foot had connected with a twig that lay on the ground. But did the rabbit run away from the noise of the twig? Heavens no. The rabbit young Nathorien was stalking suddenly turned into a very large brown bear, who seemed to be, was he grinning?

Fear and panic suddenly filled him. His legs were locked into place and his jaw was ajar with shock. The bear's grin grew ever wider as this young boy was not moving. Seconds passed as the two stared at each other, seeming like ages to him. Then to break the peace, the bear leaped at young him, "mauling with intent to eat," the police reports would say. But how did young Nathorien survive this bear's attack? "Well," Nathorien would say, "that is a tale for another day," as the writer has now hit a block.


	2. Young Nathorien's Continuing Exploits

There's something funny about pain. It starts out on a very small scale, hardly noticeable, easy to shrug off and ignore. From there it steadily grows. It gets harder and harder to ignore and it starts to show on the outside. Eventually, pain has you on the ground rolling in it. And then it stops. The pain is gone. There's a feeling of relaxation then. That's about the point that you die. See it's not that the pain has stopped; it's that all your nerves are all dead and you no longer have the ability to feel pain.

Young Nathorien Raldonis had reached the point of no pain once. A bear had been mauling him, tearing him to shreds. Death was a very near thing. His vision was blurring, slowly growing darker. Until that point he mostly saw red from the blood splashed in his eyes. But he could still make out shapes. He could still make out the bear slashing away at him, that red and white checkerboarded napkin around its neck, fork and knife in hand. The rabbit's skin must have fallen off its head when it leaped at him. "This isn't so bad," he thought to himself, "I'll get to see my parents now and my seemingly pointless existence will be over. At least it doesn't end in pain."

Visions getting darker still, young Nathorien knew his demise was at hand. But the last thing he saw was not that of a homicidal bear. It was light, pure white light. "Wow," his final though was, "This must be death. Death is awfully pretty."

The next thing young Nathorien can recall was that same feeling of relaxation he had when he was dying. He figured death felt good. However, to his great surprise, he opened his eyes to find he was not in the spirit world. That bright light he had seen was nowhere around either. Looking at his surroundings, he surmised he was in a bedroom, seeing as how he was sitting up in a bed. As he surveyed the room, he noticed his hunting rifle, skinning knife, and sack of copper in a pile up against the wall. Then he looked at his clothes. They were... clean? Nathorien's clothes were never clean, where would a kid living on the streets get the cash for a laundromat? "Wait a minute, these aren't my clothes," he thought, "Of course they're not, my clothes would be in shreds and bloodied."

That's when he began to recall what happened: his hunting trip, the rabbit... that eventually turned into that hungry bear, the mauling, the pain, oh the pain. Then the dark, things were getting dark. Then... what was that light? He thought it was himself crossing over into death, yet here he is alive. Young Nathorien went to stand up when all of a sudden pain ran through his body. He sat back down on the bed and took off his new shirt, expecting to see disfiguration where the pain came from. Nothing. No scrapes, no bruises, no scars, no missing bits of flesh, no broken bones. How the hell did he come out of this unscathed?

He guessed his pain was just his muscles being sore from the attack. He sat in bed for a bit and contemplated how he got away from that bear. The best thing young Nathorien could come up with was he was a god. Yes. That was the best, most logical thing he could come up with sadly. Whadaya want? He's a kid! (Not a very bright kid, but still a kid) Upon this enlightenment, his godship noticed a crutch lying up against the wall. So he hobbled his way over to the crutch, doing his best to use as few muscles as possible. When he reached it, he slowly limped his way out of the room.

Upon his departure of the room, he discovered he was at the inn of Auberdine. He limped his way to the desk where the inn clerk stood. "Oh Nath! You're finally awake!" the clerk said with a smile. Now he knew this girl. He hung around the inn often and talked with her a bit.

Though almost certain of his godhood, young Nathorien was still a little doubtful of it. "How did I get here? How long have I been out? Last thing I remember was being attacked by a be-" He stopped. No. The bear wasn't the last thing he remembered. He looked at the inn desk and pondered this new memory for a moment. He saw a girl's face, a young girl. She was hovering over him, smiling. That smile was very pleasant. He remembered her eyes as well. That was the most vivid thing of the memory, her eyes. But he stowed this memory for the time being.

"You were brought back here by a young priestess from Darnassus who was out here in Darkshore collecting information on some spirits for her temple. She had her aid carry you into the room where she cast much healing magics on you. Took her a long time to make sure your physical body looked all right as well as your health." The clerk replied, "Oh! And she left you this."

The clerk handed young Nathorien a folded piece of paper. He held it in his hands and opened it up to find it having three words on it. "Take it easy." it read. Nathorien wasn't quite sure what this meant. He turned his attention back to the inn clerk when he replied, "Does this mean I'm not a god?"


	3. Young Nathorien Tries Again

Despite his failed attempt at hunting in Darkshore, young Nathorien Raldonis did not wish to give up on his prospectful ambition of making legitimate money. Though he had no problem stealing the money and items he needed to survive, a legitimate enterprise doing leatherworking seemed far more profitable than sleight of hand. He knew from his recent experience with the bear that trying this business in Darkshore was dangerous to his well-being. He had heard that the wild creatures in Teldrassil are somewhat tamer than the ones in Darkshore.

The town of Auberdine, where Nathorien spends most of his time, recently finished construction on a dock. On this dock, ships sailed from port to the village of Rut'theran. Rut'theran Village was located at the bottom of the World Tree of Teldrassil; and in this village was a gateway that teleported those who walked through it to the Kaldorei capital of Darnassus, located atop Teldrassil.

Eager to make his fortune, as well as rob new riches, young Nathorien relocated himself to Teldrassil. He didn't spend much time in Darnassus as he really didn't want people to learn his face. As he was passing through the gate at the entrance of Darnassus, he stopped. He turned back to look at the city. He remembered what the inn clerk in Auberdine told him about the priestess that healed his bear mauling wounds. He remembered that she was a priestess of this very city. He was tempted to turn around, seek her out and thank her properly; but despite this thought, he continued on his way into Teldrassil.

Young Nathorien slowly made his way through the forests of Teldrassil, studying the surroundings and wildlife as he went. Eventually he stopped his traveling in the town of Dolanar. He had studied the creatures surrounding this town and decided this place would be suitable for his needs. It was a small town: an inn, a house, and a large building where most of the inhabitants did their business. Most of the people in Dolanar lived in Starbreeze Village, a residential village not far from Dolanar, and came there for business. "This is great," he thought, "This place will be perfect for both legitimate and... illegitimate endeavors." He chuckled at the thought of new things to steal. An interesting thing he noticed about this town was that it had educators, people who could teach a person in a variety of fields. He was particularly interested in the education in the roguish ways. He had new needs to start saving his money.

While young Nathorien was passing through Darnassus, he did manage to pick up from silver from some poor soul who "dropped his pocket." He was more than kind enough to help him pick said pocket... (No not up off the ground). So he put up some money at the inn; enough to keep them there for a couple of weeks, "More than enough time to make more money." he said. So he put himself to his room and decided to rest for the evening. Tomorrow was the beginning of Nathorien's future. (A little redundant if I do say so myself)

The following day was starting out very successful for young Nathorien. He killed and skinned two rabbits and a deer. He killed and tried to skin a squirrel, but what bit of skin he got off of it was worthless. With these skins stowed away in his sack, he continued on, searching for some bigger game. He had also packed with him some meat he cut out from the rabbit; he had an idea that involved this.

After creeping around for a little while, young Nathorien found a creature that he found to be suitable to meet the quota he set for himself. A nightsaber. He, now stalking the nightsaber, studied his prey for some time. He noticed the nightsaber had a movement pattern, possibly a patrol of some sorts for its Pack. He quickly hatched a plan and moved quickly, it required him to be swift because the time he had to make this plan come to fruition was short. He pulled out the rabbit carcass out of his pack and placed it on the ground, directly on the movement path He noticed the nightsaber took. He then scaled a nearby tree, pulled out and loaded his rifle got into a ready position. It's a trap!

Following the pattern young Nathorien predicted, the nightsaber began walking the path towards the meat shortly after he got in the tree. The nightsaber stopped when he picked up the scent of the rabbit flesh. It slowly creped up to the pile of meat and started sniffing it out. When the nightsaber determined it was safe to eat, it dug in. It was time for him to spring into action!

Young Nathorien hefted his rifle to eye level and took aim at his prey. His plan was to shoot the nightsaber, wounding it. He only wants to shoot it once so he can get as much good leather off of it as possible. He will then leap out of the tree and finish off the wounded nightsaber with his skinning knife, stabbing it to death in places where he won't be inclined to get leather from. With his prey in sight, Nathorien fired.

Young Nathorien jumped down and started running towards his prey, knife in hand. Unknown to him, he missed his shot. The nightsaber heard the shot from the rifle and immediately moved out of position out of surprise, causing Wooldor's shot to miss. He leaped at his prey only to see the nightsaber turn around and do the same to him. The nightsaber clearly had more force getting off the ground than Nathorien did; so when the two collided the nightsaber ended up pouncing him to the ground. Panic rushed over him, this situation felt all too familiar and no priestess was going to save him this time. The nightsaber started biting at his face, but he was quick to dodge the attacks.

That's when young Nathorien remembered the knife; he still had it in hand! "To the nether the leather!", he though, "I'm going to live through this one." He took his knife and jabbed the blade hard into the side of the nightsaber. The creature cried out in pain and released enough pressure off of young Nathorien for him to push the nightsaber off. "That was easier than I thought, "he indicated, "I might be able to salvage the leather yet." While the creature rolled in pain, he jabbed his knife straight into the nightsaber's chest. The nightsaber let out a loud shriek, spasmed violently and went still. The nightsaber twitched a bit before he checked to make sure it was dead. He let out a sigh of relief and took a couple minutes to catch his breath before going to skin his kill.

After the job was done, young Nathorien was rather satisfied with the amount of leather he collected. He packed up his leather, stood up straight and headed back to the inn. When yhe returned, he collapsed on his bed and let out another sigh of relief before passing out. The next day he took that leather he collected and turned it into a protective vest. "If I'm going to be attacked by blasted animals," Nathorien said, "my insides are going to stay intact. It seems to me that the animals have it out for my innards. But they're my innards you see? They're mine I say! Mine!"


	4. Green Skins For Nathorien

Years pass by. The world rotates. Wars are fought. People die. People live. People are born. Love flourishes. Love perishes. People move on. Lives are changed: good and bad. For Nathorien Raldonis, three fourths of a century has passed since his last tale.

Nathorien's leatherworking enterprise proved fruitful. Despite the fact that it was a legitimate business, he made a good living doing what he did. His skills as a thief improved as well. He set aside some money to get training in the ways of the rogue. Through this, he could not only steal things better than ever before; but it also made him quite the skilled fighter.

After spending some time in Dolanar and eventually Darnassus, Nathorien moved back out to Auberdine in Darkshore. He did this because the skinning in Teldrassil was getting too unprofitable. He wanted to make more money so he returned to his old stomping grounds in Darkshore. But after a time, even old Darkshore lost his interest. He ventured south into territory he hadn't explored yet. The region of Ashenvale, home of the town of Astranaar. Nathorien now calls this town his home and finds he is making more money than ever before.

Nathorien, now a borderline adult by Kaldorei standards, spends his time getting his leatherworking materials off of wolves, bucks, and for an old wound, bears. Living in Ashenvale, he would often run into Sentinels serving under Tyrande Whisperwind, the leader of the Kaldorei, who protected Kaldorei lands from any attackers, such as possible agents of the Burning Legion. He sometimes assists the guard for some extra pocket change, mostly keeping back rebel furbolgs who sometimes try to take down Astranaar, also the occasional recon job.

One day, Nathorien had heard a report of war breaking out on the continent where the High Elves were rumored to have relocated to. The humans were going at it with some strange looking green skinned creatures. Tyrande's guard also heard a report that they were making their way to Kalimdor. They decided to seek out Nathorien for a job on scoping out the southern desert lands of the Barrens to find the truthiness in these reports. He accepted. This wouldn't do. He would normally care only for himself; but if these green skinned creatures made it to Ashenvale, he would be directly affected in some adverse way. He said he'd leave in the morning. The reason being he wanted to ransack the armory and weapons shop during the night to outfit himself for this potentially dangerous mission.

Early in the morning, Nathorien suited up with his new weapons and armor. As he headed to the Barrens, he could barely make out the sun on the horizon. "Good," he thought, "Early bird catches the worm as they say." He made his way through the forests of Ashenvale and eventually made it past the mountain range along the southern borders. He passed a guard station on his way into the Barrens and nodded at the sentinels as he went past and made his way into the desert.

This place was different from anywhere Nathorien had been before. He had never actually been off Kaldorei lands before today. He set up precautions that would make him less detectable, a sort of stealth if you will. He also made sure he had his flash powder along with him in case he needed to "vanish." He was taught well in the arts of the rogue; and this still holds true today. Kaldorei lands are lush and mostly forested. This place however, was sand as far as the eye can see, not a tree in sight. The wildlife here was different too. He had never seen anything like a giraffe or a zhevra before; and he didn't even want to look at the raptors, they looked vicious.

Nathorien moved swiftly across the desert, making sure his movements were quiet. It was about noon now, the sun was high. He was feeling quite hot by now, "Leather armor in a desert, great idea Nath." he said to himself. He'd been at this for hours now and not a green skinned creature in sight. He scaled a sand dune and decided it was time for lunch. He pulled out some Roasted Wolf Meat that he had cooked and started chowing down. When hark, what did his ears hear? Why it sounded like the scream of a fair maiden. This looks like a job for Nathorien! He dropped his food and took off in the direction of the scream.

Nathorien sprinted in the direction of the scream until he saw it. A Kaldorei woman running, being chased by... by green skins! The young woman was clothed in a robe and was being pursued by three of those green skinned creatures described to him in the reports. He knew he had to do something; but he didn't want to do anything rash and rush into the fray. He quickly formed a plan and took off, moving as stealthily as possible. He caught up to the green skins and kept pace with them for a bit. It was now or never, do or die. He grabbed one of his daggers and drove it deep into the shoulder area of the closest green skin. He had expected his foe to wail out in pain giving him the time to finish it off. Instead the green skin turned around and backhanded him across the face, knocking him to the ground.

"Well we're off to a great start." Nathorien said sarcastically. He rolled to the left, dodging the green skin's attempt at tackling him. Before the green skin could get up, Nathorien jumped on its back, pulled out another dagger and penetrated both its shoulders. This time it let out a cry of pain. He to the brief moment of the creature dealing with its pain to finish the job. He took his dagger, jabbed it into the back of the green skin and dragged it down its spine. The green skin wailed for a moment then went limp. "One down." Nathorien said with a smile.

Nathorien got up to look around for the woman and the other two green skins. He found them running in the opposite direction they were running before... but wait... shouldn't there be two green skins... where's the second on- oh. It was behind him. He knew this because he was thrown to the ground. The green skin jumped on top of him (He really needs to get on top more) and it looked pissed. But he was quick and the green skin lay on the ground dead before it could do a thing. He still had his daggers in hand. So he jammed them into the green skin's sides and it immediately died.

Nathorien did spend some time getting the body off of him. It was pretty darn heavy. He sat up for his eyes to meet a hand extended to help him get up. It was the young woman whom the green skins were pursuing. Where was the third green skin? All he could see was a smoldering pile of- oh... damn. He grabbed her hand, got up and smiled at her. "I thank you kind sir," she said to him, "I could not have defeated those orcs on my own."

"Orcs?" Nathorien asked, "That's what those green skinned creatures are called?"

"Yes, it is said they come from another world and are working for the Burning Legion. If I may ask, what are you doing out here?"

Nathorien had a momentary pause before replying; there was something about her... "Oh. I was out on an investigation. We've had reports of these orc from the other continent and I was checking a rumor about them coming here. Bad news for Tyrande's people I guess."

The woman chuckled for a second, "You work for my mistress' people?"

Again he paused before replying, "Your mistress? You mean Tyrande? No I'm not employed under her, it's more volunteer work."

Again she chuckled. She smiled at him this time. Why does she seem so familiar? That smile, those eyes... Then in a rush, images flooded his head: the forest of Darkshore, a rabbit, a twig, a bear, everything going red then dark, white light... those eyes. "By Elune!" Nathorien thought, "It's her!" There were so many things he wanted to say to her, mostly thanking her for saving his life. Unfortunately for him, he was not so well versed in talking to a pretty girl, "I am the Nathorien Raldonis. I am the one who makes all the people's moneys disappears."


	5. Girls And Nathorien

She looked at him awkwardly. "This warrior is a nut," the Kaldorei priestess thought to herself. This warrior, this Nathorien person, had apparently, lost the ability to speak coherently. His words were pure gibberish. And not only that, he wouldn't stop staring at her. His eyes were fixated on her face, unblinking. "Typical male," she thought. What with most of the male Kaldorei population away in the Emerald Dream, the few that remained tended to hound the women for only one thing. Sex. Figuring what he wanted, she knew she had to get away from him as soon as possible.

"So, um... thank you for the rescue kind warrior," she said, trying not to seem creped out, "but I must return to...," she paused. She didn't want this guy to track her down, "...where I came from." Smooth.

The thought of Nathorien's former savior leaving him snapped him back to reality. "Oh please, allow me to escort you back, milady."

"Oh no, that's really not necessar-" Again she paused. There may be more orcs. She guessed she had no choice but for him to escort her. "Yes, okay. I just need to go to Astranaar then I'll be taking a hippogryph back."

She rolled her eyes at him. It was upon doing this she noticed a piece of folded paper lying on the ground. This Nathorien must have dropped it during his struggle. She reached down to pick it up. She was about to go into the motion of giving it to him when it opened. There were just three words on it... and it was in her handwriting. She recoiled her hand to study the paper. It said, "Take it easy." It was indeed her handwriting. But how did this guy get a hold of this... unless... the boy. She remembered saving the life of that boy all those years ago. That boy would probably be about the age of this guy. It must be him. So wait... is that why he's been staring and speaking so oddly? Does he remember her?

"Say," she said, "is this yours?" She held the piece of paper out to him.

She saw that his eyes widened when she handed it to him. Without a word he quickly snatched it back. He opened it up, looked at it for about a second, and then snapped it shut. "Yes... yes this is mine." He shoved the paper into his pocket.

"Mmhmm, let's see where this goes," she thought to herself. "That paper looks rather old," she said, "how long have you been holding onto it?"

Nathorien still had his hand in his pocket, clutching the paper, "About seventy five years."

She smiled and he dropped his jaw ever so slightly" Why carry a piece of paper for so long?"

"Well it represents something important to me."

"Oh? What's that? If you don't mind me asking."

Nathorien looked down, closed his eyes, and smiled, "The person who wrote it saved my life."

"Is she a friend of yours?"

"No, I've never met her actually... and..." he added, "...I didn't said it was a she who saved me." He looked back up and his smile of reminiscence turned into a smile of playfulness. Player two had entered the game.

"Heh, so you didn't." Uh oh.

"I'm sure you've noticed that I've been... well I've been eyeing you up."

"What?!" she thought, "Maybe he's not as odd as I thought." She gives a light nod.

"Well pardon me for that. I just have this feeling that you wrote this note to me those years ago. So I was studying your face to try and really remember."

"Okay," she thought, "he's definitely a little creepy." She sighed and then replied, "I too was thinking the same thing. It seems fate has an odd tendency. Had I not saved you before, you would not have been around to save me now." She smiled at him.

He returned her smile with his own, "I suppose the real thanks should go to you then. In a way, you saved yourself."

"So I did. Well, shall we?" She motioned toward the north back to Ashenvale.

"Yes, I do grow tired of this desert, let's." Nathorien began to walk but then he stopped. "Hey wait a second; I don't even know your name."

She chuckled for a moment, "So you don't. It's Metzia. Metzia Farrom."

"Well then Metzia Farrom; let's get you back to Astranaar." Nathorien took point, Metzia not far behind him. The two chatted about what they do (well the legal things they do anyway), current events, and this new threat of the orcs. The two seemed to be really hitting it off now that the uncomfortableness was out of the way. It was as if they'd been friends for a long time.

When they arrived back in Astranaar, Nathorien walked her to the hippogryph master. "Well, it was great to meet you and all. When will I see you again?"

Metzia smiled at him and replied, "Soon I think. I have some free time coming to me and I can come down and visit." She hugged Nathorien for saving her and then headed to pay the hippogryph master for a ride. But she stopped. A notion had just entered her head. She turned around, pulled out a staff that had been slung around her back, and promptly hit Nathorien on the side of the head with it. "It took you seventy five years for you to thank me for saving your life?!"


	6. Nathorien In Love

Nathorien Raldonis was as nervous as a Tauren at a backyard barbecue. He had never really been with a woman before, let alone taken one out on a date. Nathorien was still young, he had always been concerned with making his own status higher and his wallet fuller. He was taking out the lovely Metzia, whom he' been recently getting to know better.

The two had been spending a lot of time together lately. She had been assisting him in his leatherworking. She being a priestess, is able to keep Nathorien from suffering serious wounds allowing him to take on and skin more animals. She surprised him. His knowledge of Darnassian priestesses shows they are all rather stuck up and very zealous towards their duties. But Metzia, she was loose, free. Hell, she came to often assist Nathorien instead of doing her duties in Darnassus. On top of that, she had a sense of humor. She would be good to crack a joke while out in Ashenvale. She also seemed to get the same thrill about this skinning business as Nathorien.

These things in mind, he had been growing fond of her. He was beginning to like her. He wanted to take her out for a meal to show her this. But Nathorien was finding himself speechless on the subject when around her. He could not bring himself to say words. In a more modern time, Azerothian doctors would call the condition Nathorien suffers from "Canttalktogirlsitis." He was nervous. So he sent her a letter. As a humorous gesture, she sent him a letter back as her reply, despite the fact that she'd be seeing him on the day it was scheduled to arrive anyway. She accepted his offer and awaited his arrival. Now he's on a hippogryph, flying out to Rut'Theran Village. His nervousness had gone beyond the sweating stage. He let out a sigh of relief at that notion; he didn't want to go out there sweaty. Usually confident, sometimes overconfident, he seemed to have lost it in this moment. He feared much. He didn't want to seem like a fool, he didn't want to offend her and most of all, he didn't want to blow it. Alas, with his lack of experience with women, he feared these things would come to pass.

Landing in Rut'Theran, Nathorien straightened out his clothes, straightened out his hair, and pulled out a full bouquet of flowers. He picked a bouquet of lilies that he had learned to be her favorite. He then slowly drug his feet to the portal to Darnassus.

After stepping through to the other side of the portal, Nathorien started to make his way to the Darnassus temple. He suddenly turned around when he heard someone say, "Your money or your life." She stepped out from behind the portal gateway. Why hadn't he noticed her? There stood Metzia, wearing a rather casual dress, looking stunning, having a sly smirk about her. He felt a little overdressed as he was wearing a formal suit. Still nervous, he stood there silently, shifting his feet. "Heh, calm down, it's all right. You look anxious." Did he? He thought he was able to hide how nervous he was, but apparently he was failing. He slowly raised his arm, which had the lilies in hand. Metzia squealed with glee, "Lilies! You got me lilies!" She runs to him and hugs him tightly. One could almost say she glomped him.

Nathorien reached into his pocket and pulled out a rock. A hearthstone! "I've- erm... I've picked out a place for us t-to g-go." He slowly moved his hand towards her and lightly grasped her arm. Once he had her, he activated the stone's power. The settings and scenery of Darnassus faded away and everything became very purple. They were in the forest of Teldrassil, somewhat close to the edge actually. "Now if y-you don't mind, I'm going to h-have to blindfold you." He tied a blindfold around her eyes and lead her to a spot closer to the edge of the World Tree. He sat her down on a large cloth already spread on the ground. "I'll be back soon, sit tight." He picked up a pack lying on the ground and walked away.

It was amazing. Nathorien was feeling great now. All that tension seemed to be gone. He dropped his pack on the ground and unloaded it. Inside were cooking supplies, some packaged food, and a bottle. He got right to it. He lit a fire and pulled out the food. He was going to prepare her favorite food: Spiced Wolf Meat and Slitherskin Mackerel, a rather odd favorable food combination for a priestess of Darnassus, but Nathorien liked her tastes. He got to cooking the meats with great precision, splashing them with some of the contents of the bottle, he wanted this to be perfect.

Meanwhile, Metzia sat alone, blindfolded. She wondered what he could possibly be doing and why he blindfolded her. She was fairly certain that Wooldor had left the area, so she lifted the blindfold to see where she was. "Wow," she thought. The view was magnificent, it was beautiful. She also noticed the cloth she sat on had some table settings. Apparently they were going to eat here. She then picked up a scent on the wind. "sniff, sniff That's... sniff ...that's some sort of... wolf meat... wait... sniff, sniff ... is that fish too? He's... wow, he really went all out for the romantic factor. This beautiful place, the food, damn." She slipped the blindfold back on and waited for Nathorien to return.

Perfect. The cooking job turned out perfectly; not undercooked and not burnt to a crisp. Nathorien put the food on a serving dish and covered it up so the heat wouldn't escape. He packed his things, put out the fire, grabbed the dish and headed back. She still sat there, blindfold still on. He set down the dish and stowed away his pack of supplies behind a tree. He returned to his picnic area, walked behind Metzia and took off the blindfold.

She pretended to be surprised at her surroundings and what was in front of her. This actually wasn't hard when she saw the food placed in front of her. Her mouth began to water at the sight of her favorite foods. She turned around to Nathorien who was smiling, "It looks so wonderful. I hadn't expected this." He walked closer to the cloth where he picked up the plate in front of her and served her the meat. But before serving himself, he held up an index finger and walked away. He walked behind the tree he had stashed his stuff and returned with the bottle he'd used for cooking. He poured the contents of the bottle in a glass in front of her. Junglevine Wine! That's a really expensive import! How did he come across a bottle of this?

He poured himself a glass and finally sat down. He then served himself some food. Metzia was frankly at a loss for words. From what she had known of Nathorien, he was certainly capable of performing some tasks but he was generally kind of bumbling. And from what she had seen of him earlier, him being a complete wreck, she figured there'd be some hitch in this. But he's pulling it off flawlessly. It's like he's a different person from when he came to meet her in Darnassus. She took a sip of the wine and smiled to herself with joy. She hadn't felt this good in a while. A thought came into her head, "He's trying to impress me. Is he trying to tell me something?"

"Well, eat up," Nathorien said to her. She hadn't realized she'd zoned out, but his voice snapped her out of her head. The food smelled delicious. Thus, she dug in. The two talked during the meal; he made her laugh from time to time; she said things that made him blush. All in all, it really was the perfect date. When the food was gone and the wine finished, the two moved to the edge of the World Tree and sat down, feet dangling over the edge. There she nudged herself closer to him and leaned up against him. That familiar feeling of nervousness and anxiety returned. He hadn't expected this. He wasn't sure what to do. Should he put his arm around her or should he lean up against her? While still contemplating this, without realizing what he was doing, he found his arm was moving around her shoulder, much to his surprise. Even more to his surprise, she didn't pull away, she actually moved in closer, and there they sat. They didn't speak, they just sat. After several minutes of silence she pulled out something Nathorien wasn't expecting. She took his chin with two fingers and lead his lips to her's where she kissed him.

After that Nathorien was sure of his feelings for Metzia. He loved her plain and simple. It didn't matter what they were doing, just merely being in her presence made him joyful. They spent more time together, doing more romantic things instead of his leatherworking. Eventually he moved back to Teldrassil to be closer to her. One night you would find two Kaldorei, a male and a female, in a bed together in the male's home. Now you would think that one of the Kaldorei was on top of the other, furiously thrusting themself into the other. But that is not the case here. No, you would find two Kaldorei in bed asleep, the male holding the female in his arms, the female having a ring one might call The Rock around her fourth finger.


End file.
